


Dienen

by PinstripesAndConverse



Category: City of Love: Paris (Visual Novel), Ubisoft's City of Love: Paris
Genre: Cute, F/M, Fluff, Post Season 2 interlude, Very fluffy, in which pets meet each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-12-20 15:19:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11923659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinstripesAndConverse/pseuds/PinstripesAndConverse
Summary: A post-Season 2 interlude, in which Vincent introduces Esteban to the MC, the cat meets Vincent, and the two enjoy a moment of peace together with each other.  Warning: pure fluff, established relationship between Vincent and the MC, following the slight AU of Silentium Amoris & Stolen Kisses.





	Dienen

**Author's Note:**

> Cross-posted at Tumblr at boughtmywayintopopulture & at Wattpad under SweetVenomKiss

_ Someday, you will serve someone _ _   
_ _ Someone who’s softer and more delicate than you. _ _   
_ _ *** _ _   
_ _ Someone loves you and wants to walk on your side. _ _   
_ __ -Ich und Ich, “Dienen”

* * *

 

Vincent looked up at the building, a charming place in an older part of the city he remembered her gushing about for hours after she had looked at it.  Her first order of business after the entire ordeal had been to find a new place to live, one unmarked by death and memory, that she could make her own.  

If his assets hadn’t been frozen, as they still were as he awaited his appeal (the blasted device around his ankle a constant reminder of his false-freedom), he would have offered her one of his one apartments or penthouses.  It was the least he could do after…well, after many things, he supposed.  For that night at the opera.  For saving him from the Knights of Lutetia.  

_ For reminding me how utterly amazing it is to...care about someone in this way,  _ he thought, catching only a sight of her from an open window.   _ Well, at least she’s home. _

He was initially shocked when she told him Sarah offered her Raphael’s apartment after Katherine’s murder, despite the history the two of them shared.  The night of her Agatha Christie imitation, when they had kissed in front of Raphael, she returned to a desolate apartment to find her suitcase packed by the door, the message clear.  Louise had taken her in for the remainder of her investigation, he heard, purely out of spite to Raphael and without questions as to why.

Her current residence was larger than her last flat, with much better appliances (he had cringed upon seeing the fridge at her last apartment, a rustic thing from the seventies), and a better view of the Seine.  He had only seen it before it was properly furnished, but even before the finishing touches, he knew it suited her perfectly.  

A soft whine brought his attention back to the present.  Esteban stood at his feet, peering around at the new location; this was certainly an adventure for him, far from his usual walking spots.  Vincent originally hadn’t anticipated visiting her today, let alone bring his canine companion but he thought perhaps it was a good opportunity for the two most important individuals in his life to finally meet.  

“You’re right, I’m stalling.”  He murmured, looking up a final time before approaching the door, ringing the bell.  

He barely had to speak a full sentence before she buzzed him inside.  He smiled to himself as he led Esteban into the building and up the stairs to her floor.

* * *

 

Vincent glanced in the mirror near the stairs, making sure his hair was tidy.  He was meticulous, something not even prison could break him of, and although he knew she would eventually see him with unkempt hair, that day was not today.

Esteban’s tag jingled as they walked down the corridor to her door.  He stared at the number plate, taking a breath before bringing up his free hand to knock.

Over two months.  He first kissed her over two months ago, their mutual decision to see where things went barely a month later.  Enough time to get used to each other, at least a little.

_ How do you manage to still make me feel this way, excited and eager to see you?   _ He wondered, hearing her footsteps from beyond the door.

She opened the door, and he felt his heart race at seeing her, at seeing her smile and her sparkling eyes.  Her presence did something to him that he hadn’t experienced in a long time, a happiness he never thought he would find again, one he never entirely expected to find in her.  Her hair was tied up and out of her eyes-she was writing, then, or was attempting to, at any rate.  She let him inside, closing the door before wrapping her arms around him, leaning into him as if it hadn't been a mere few days since they last saw each other. 

“It’s unexpected, but I brought a friend.” He said, brushing his lips across her forehead.

She looked up at him quizzically before her eyes darted down to the floor, where Esteban sat patiently, Vincent no longer holding his leash.  He smiled as he watched her face light up, speaking softly to the dog.  She knelt down, her hand extended to Esteban to sniff, letting him come to her.  

Esteban was picky with humans, often taking to being standoffish when he wasn't interested.  Vincent appreciated that in a pet, a loyalty that went deeper than respecting the hand that feeds.  Esteban’s dark eyes looked at her for a moment, judging her, tentatively sniffing her outstretched hand before he bestowed a small lick on her fingertips.  She was not prepared for the rush of energy and enthusiasm she received following his initial approval as Esteban ran to her.  The dog licked her face once, on the nose, before barking and giving kisses to her fingers. 

“You're much cuter in person,” she said softly, scratching behind his ears.  He was happy to have the attention, giving a small snort in reply.

“I knew he would like you.  And believe me, he doesn't like everyone.” Vincent said, looking at them fondly.  

It meant a lot to have Esteban’s approval, as silly as it seemed.  The dog had been with him through much of his own strive and grief, and was the closest thing he had to a friend now, besides the woman in front of him.  She was happy, her smile wide, and it was enough to make his chest tighten with bliss.

At the sound of his master’s voice, Esteban stopped what he was doing and looked at him, tongue wagging, his curled tail dancing back and forth.  The pug gave her one last lick before trotting over to Vincent, who picked him up and nuzzled him briefly.

“So where does the banana fit in?” She asked, standing and reaching out to pet Esteban to ease his excitement.  Esteban was clearly happy to not only have the one person he adored, but have a new one, not sure of how to split his affections as he squirmed slightly in Vincent’s arms, stopping once she started petting him again. 

“His favorite toy when he was a puppy.  It was a...gift, from someone important.”

_ Paul gave him that banana back before I even knew what dog I specifically wanted,  _ he thought.

“That...just makes him more adorable, you realize?” She looked up at him playfully, her fingers still scratching at Esteban’s ear gently.  

_ And you realize that expression on your face only makes  _ you  _ more adorable than you’re already capable of being _ , he thought, returning her smile.

“He’s a dog of many talents, you’ll find.”  He murmured.  “Would you accompany me on a walk with him?  He was quite taken with the park we passed on our way here.  If you aren’t occupied, of course.”

She glanced over to her desk where her laptop sat open to a document and then looked back at him.  “Can I have two minutes?  I have a line in my head for tying up a section and I don’t want to lose it.”

He kissed her forehead in response, watching her swiftly head back to her desk near the window, whispering her words to herself as she tried to pick up her train of thought again.  He put Esteban back down, the pup tentatively sniffing the floor and peering around curiously but never really leaving Vincent’s side.

His eyes fell onto the rest of the space.  The apartment was of classical Haussmann build, meeting the old guidelines for the city’s restructuring in the 1800’s.  the chevron-patterned hardwood floors were left bare, save a single area rug of dark blues and greens, matching the palette of the couch and two armchairs positioned around a dark wood coffee table.  A flat screen television sat on the mantle of the fireplace.  The crown molding and ceiling details were recently refinished, along with the detailing around the fireplace.  Large windows let in sunlight, reflecting off of the white walls of the main living space.  Beyond her desk was the entrance to a balcony, where a small table and set of chairs sat.  If he remembered correctly, the laundry, kitchen and dining areas were to the left, the kitchen a modern-looking affair with stainless appliances; to the right was the full bath (she was terribly excited over having a claw-footed tub, he recalled), and past it, at the end, was the only bedroom in the unit.  Most of the color in the space came from the furniture and books and other items, markings of her personality dotting the neutral interior.

“Done!”  She closed her laptop in triumph before amending, “well, for today, at any rate.”

“Then I have you all to myself.” He said as she neared the door to slip on a pair of shoes.

She looked up at him, her eyes earnest as she took his hand.  “You always do.” Her words were spoken as if it was the most obvious and natural thing in the world.

_ You’re the only person who could say that and I’d actually believe it _ .

He raised her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles softly before murmuring, “Shall we?”

* * *

Esteban trotted along happily, quite taken with exploring an entirely new landscape.  It was a smaller park than where Vincent usually walked him but the paths were lined with all manner of flowers and foliage, the paved paths surrounding the open field covered from the sunlight by tall trees.  It was probably quite a sight in autumn.  

He was not used to both of his hands being occupied, his right holding Esteban’s leash while his left held a smaller hand, her fingers threaded through his.   This...this was peaceful.  Or as close to it as he could get as his court decision hung over his head.  

He couldn’t bear being thrown into jail again, never to truly know her, locked away from her again.  

Worrying was of little point right now.  He was here, with her, with Esteban.  He should enjoy it.

A butterfly fluttered across Esteban’s path, its wings bright and vibrant as it made its way to a flowerbed.  Esteban’s head turned to follow the creature before deciding to actually follow it, sniffing the flowers and watching the flying insect.

“He’s so gentle.  And curious.”  She murmured, resting her head on his upper arm as Esteban sniffled the butterfly, receiving a slow wing flap in return.  “Thank you.”

“Whatever for?”

“For bringing him.  I’m glad I got to meet him, he means so much to you.”

“He’s not the only one.”

He glanced down at her to see her press her cheek against him in an attempt to hide her flustered face.  It always amused him, how straightforward she was in her investigations yet so stunned when she was disarmed, told of the value she held to him, a value no number could ever take the place of.

Esteban whined softly as he watched the butterfly leave before turning around and walking over to her, looking up at her.  She knelt down, Esteban placing his paws on her knees as she pet him, his tail going a mile a minute.  

“He kind of reminds me of my cat; curious, a judge of character…”  She paused, looking at him again, as if she had just remembered something.  “You’re not allergic to cats, right?”

“I’m only allergic to dull conversation and Raphael’s tantrums.”

Relief covered her features as she smiled at his reply, and she turned back to Esteban to kiss his head, the pug trying to maneuver his head to return the gesture, licking her chin.  She stood up and Vincent checked his watch, finding it far later in the afternoon than he originally thought it was.  Esteban began walking again, this time in the direction they came from, making the decision for them to head back to her apartment.  

Vincent took her hand again as they walked back.  He could get used to this.

* * *

They returned to her flat, finding her cat sitting in front of the balcony doors, tail swishing.  Despite knowing so much about her, he never knew what he cat looked like, precisely.  A fluffy creature, with bands of tan, ginger, and black markings, wide green eyes.  Its fur naturally made a heart-shape when it sat, he realized, and smiled to himself as he took off his shoes.  

Much like Esteban suited him, her cat suited her.  Independent, witty, confident, perhaps sashaying occasionally when she was very pleased with herself.  Yet much like her cat, she wore her heart on her sleeve, for all to see.  

She went over to the doors and unlocked them, opening them to let the cat in, along with the afternoon breeze.  “He’s probably hungry,” she said, picking up the empty food dish and walking towards the kitchen, “I’ll be right back.”

Esteban made an inquisitive whine, looking up at Vincent before meeting the gaze of the cat, its tail raised and twitching as it approached the newcomers.  Esteban took on a defensive stance, his leash still attached until Vincent knew how either would react to each other, sizing up the striped feline.  Green eyes met brown, their noses almost touching as they sniffed each other, before the cat rubbed its face on Esteban’s, brushing its body along his in approval.  The pug’s tail wagged at the approval, apparently finding the cat quite fetching himself.

Vincent knelt down as the cat approached him next, watching him with wide eyes.  He did as she had and held out a hand, waiting for the cat to come to him.  He felt its breath tickle his fingertips before it bowed its head and walked forward, bumping its head against his palm in demand to be pet.  He ran a hand gently down its back as it continued its trek, rubbing up against him in a circle before nudging his hand again.  

_ Sweet and loving when given the chance _ , he mused.   _ Certainly a mirror of your owner, aren’t you? _

“I knew he’d like you.  He likes being on his own but I think he prefers having humans to look after him.”  She said as she came back into the living space, a bowl with food in one hand and a lint roller and a hanger in the other, looking apologetic.  The bowl was placed down as the cat weaved between her legs, mewing softly.  “Unfortunately, it also means he loves leaving his fur everywhere he can.”

Vincent glanced down, finding his jacket and pants speckled in white and ginger fur; a burden when wearing black and owning pets, sadly.

Satisfied the two animals wouldn’t harm each other, Vincent unclipped Esteban’s leash and rose to set it on the table beside the door.  He took off his suit jacket to inspect the damage, taking the offered hanger and lint roller.

“Do you have to be somewhere at any point?”  She asked, turning to head back towards the kitchen.

“Other than here with you?  No, ma chèrie.”  

He draped his jacket over the hanger, looking at her to find her eyes fixed on him, working their way up from his waist before meeting his eyes.  He held her gaze for a moment before she nodded,  suddenly finding anything else very interesting to look at before heading back to the kitchen, pink rising to her cheeks.

He smirked as he found an empty hook near the door to hang his suit jacket on, next to a few of her light jackets.  He had almost forgotten she had never seen him  _ without  _ his suit jacket, a piece of his own metaphorical armor.  He examined the jacket and used the roller gently on the fabric to remove the fur.  He caught movement in his peripheral vision to his left before he heard her voice again.

“Coffee or tea?”  

He gave her a sidelong glance and a raised eyebrow of amusement, finding her head peering around the corner, still tinged pink. 

“That would depend on what you're serving alongside it.”

“That's a surprise.”

“Coffee, then; tea can be...tricky to pair.”

She disappeared into the kitchen and he turned his attention back to his jacket, carefully continuing the process before moving on to his trousers.  Truly, one of the reasons he loved Esteban was for the short fur; he would hate to do this often.

Satisfied with his handiwork, he placed the lint roller beside the leash and decided it was best to leave his jacket off rather than risk having to bother with the process again.  He unbuttoned his cuffs and carefully rolled up his sleeves as he made his way to the balcony, watching the afternoon sun reflect off the Seine in the distance.  

It felt so...odd to be...doing nothing, he realized.  Not that he was without projects, without his connections, but a mere few years ago, he was overseeing a company he built from scratch, producing operas, attending events required by his role as a CEO, supporting individuals like TJ; any free time to himself was rare in and of itself and he was particular about how he spent it.  His time in prison was less busy but nevertheless productive, gathering what information he could, pulling strings when necessary.  

All he had now was an ankle bracelet as he waited in limbo, with plenty of time to spare to spend with the lovely woman clever enough to land him in such a position in the first place.

He could hardly complain, really; he was never happier than he was now.  He was simply never one for idleness, unlike the court system.

Vincent sighed softly, taking a seat at the small table as the scent of coffee made its way from the kitchen.  His eyes fell on the previously empty pet bed in the living room, nestled between her desk and the fireplace.  Esteban was curled up, sleepily dozing off.  Certainly more than fair; his walks usually weren’t as long as today’s was.  Vincent he watched his beloved pet fall asleep before his green eyes fell to the cat finishing up a drink at its water bowl.  The feline slowly made its way to its bed with the intent to take a nap, pausing to stare at the bed’s occupant for a moment before gently slipping around Esteban to sprawl out.  He could hear a soft purring coming from the cat as it kneaded its front paws on the fabric of the bed, blinking slowly for a few moments as it made eye contact with Vincent, before closing its eyes entirely.

He smiled softly, tilting his head slightly to admire the scene.  He expected the two animals to get along but not to this extent, not so quickly.  

Not long after, he heard soft footsteps across the creaky wooden floors as she came back out from the kitchen, bearing a small serving tray of cups and other things he couldn’t see at the moment.  She paused to watch their pets curled up with each other, sleeping soundly, Esteban snuggling closer to her cat, who now draped a paw around him, almost protectively.

“Today’s full of surprises, isn’t it?” She murmured, setting the tray down as she glanced behind her at the creatures again, happy they were comfortable enough to fall asleep together.

“So it would appear.  Esteban usually prefers sleeping alone but it seems your feline made quite an impression on him.”

_ Not unlike the one you made on me so long ago,  _ he mused, accepting the offered cup of coffee and fixing it to his liking.  

“He’s been territorial since Kat died,” she said, looking again at her pet, tail twitching occasionally as he slept, “it’s nice to see him getting along with others for once.”  

He looked up at her, watching her face, her expression neutral but her eyes far, far away, focusing on another time, another place.  As quickly as it came, it was gone, a small smile and bright eyes finding their way to him as she murmured that she would be right back.  

Her grief was far from gone, far from resolved.  A mere few months was perhaps enough to finally sew shut the hole in her heart but not to make the memories less painful.  Only time could do that.  He hated seeing her like that, once happy memories marred by the knowledge her friend would never walk this earth again, her life taken far too soon.

He was younger than her when Paul died but the pain was the same.  As much as he knew it might help, he wasn’t prepared to open that wound again, not yet.  

She came back with two small ramekins, one bearing what looked to be tiramisu and the other a chocolate mousse.  She placed both on the tray and sat down, fixing her own coffee as she said, “I’ll take whichever one you don’t, but I’m going to suggest the chocolate first.”

Both of the desserts looked delicious but he held a weakness for dark chocolate, something she knew now by heart.  She had recovered from her flustered state and was now hoping to turn the tables, he realized, taking the small cup and raising a spoonful of the mousse to his lips.

The chocolate was smooth, rich, a lingering sweetness mingling with a subtle spiciness, never overpowering the chocolate.  There was something familiar about it but he couldn’t immediately place it.  It was a difficult balance to get correct, a little-known favorite, even to the woman in front of him.  He felt his eyes go wide with surprise and she smiled, laughing softly at his reaction.

“I may or may not have found the bar you kept in your desk when I broke into your office.”  She took a small spoonful of her tiramisu.

“Out of all of the things that happened that night, you remember  _ that _ ?”

“I remember a lot of things, but finding that simply...stuck with me.  It took me a while to realize it matches you quite well.  It’s the same chocolate, too, I had to go to Belgium to find it.”  

That’s why it was such a familiar combination.  He glanced down at the dessert again, touched by the gesture she remembered something so small and insignificant, a favorite thing he kept to himself; not many knew he had a small sweet-tooth.  His eyes fell back on her, watching her hair shine in the sun, her lips upturned in a satisfied smile, her eyes meeting his her gaze turned to her left, towards the river.  She took another spoonful of her dessert, watching the light reflect off of the water.

_ She notices the smallest things about people... _

“Thank you, (f/n).”

“You’re welcome, Vincent.” She paused, amending, “I’m glad you like it.”

They finished their dessert and coffee, speaking softly, the sounds of the city below fading into nothingness as they focused on each other.  They would each peer back into the living room every so often, finding their pets content with each other; Esteban had shifted to lay on his back, back paw twitching in sleep, her cat cocooned around him like a sea of striped fur.

He helped her take the dishes back into the kitchen, slipping the sugar bowl back to its place in a cabinet as she started cleaning up, separating the dishes that needed handwashing from those to be placed in the dishwasher.

“They have the right idea,” she said, gesturing to the living room.

Vincent moved to stand behind her, kissing the top of her head as he wrapped his arms around her waist.  She tensed for a moment before leaning into him, focusing on the cup in her hands.  “You’re that tired?”

“I  _ did  _ get up early to get some writing done.  But no, it’s more...a content sleepiness?”  

He hummed softly.  Not a feeling he had ever really felt before but he supposed he understood the sentiment.

She made quick work of the handwashing, setting the china cups to dry beside the sink before she turned around in his arms, resting her palms on his chest for a moment.  He let go of her when she motioned towards the other side of the apartment with her head, her hand finding his as she led him across the living space.  

* * *

 

Napping was not something he did.  In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he had.  He seriously doubted he was even able to, even if he was, in fact, tired in the middle of the day.  Which he wasn’t.  Yet he had laid beside her, atop her comforter, and held her until she fell asleep.

It was a rare chance he was able to hold her this close, to see her features at rest, have her legs tangled with his and her arms wrapped around him.  Much like him, she was always  _ doing  _ something, hardly taking a breath for herself when she deserved to.

His fingers idly twirled a lock of her hair, her head resting on his chest, right above his heart.  Her eyes shifted as she slept, her breathing slow, steady.  

Although he was hardly tired enough to fall asleep, he was certainly content, for the first time in a while.  At least for now.

And that...he could get used to.


End file.
